


and those scars remind us that the past is real

by lethargicProfessor



Series: tintype afterimage [2]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Gen, Introspection, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 13:45:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6118266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lethargicProfessor/pseuds/lethargicProfessor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She finds that the boys flaunt their scars more often than not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and those scars remind us that the past is real

She finds that the boys flaunt their scars more often than not.

Miranda wonders why – rather, wonders _how_ they don’t mind the lines crisscrossing their arms and legs, the gashes across backs and chests and faces they just seemed to brush away. Inconsequential, simply a hazard of the job.

Lavi laughs, winking mischievously as he leans in across the table, spinning tales around the scars on his wrists, across his knuckles. “This one here? I got it in a fight with a _dragon_.”

Timothy sputters, transfixed in the way only a child can. “That’s not true!”

“It’s true!” Lavi insists, sharing another quick grin with Miranda. Miranda smiles, watching Timothy bounce in his seat. She knows where those scars came from. Their origin isn’t nearly as neat as Lavi paints them to be, but Timothy doesn’t need to know that yet. It saddens her to think he’ll find out soon enough.

Kanda’s scars are less visible thanks to his healing factor, but Miranda has gotten to know the children enough to see the difference. The faint white stripes stretch from the mark on his chest, creeping up and around, spreading like a virus. Miranda sees them peeking above the collar of his shirt, creeping higher and higher with every mission. He doesn’t mention them, and she doesn’t dare bring them up.

The boys brag and laugh, and don’t mind the scars that continue to litter their bodies. They recover. They’re strong.

She’s most in awe of Lenalee, maybe even a bit envious as the girl continues to smile brightly despite the mottled burns across her body. They are by far the most visible scars, and she catches more than one Finder gawking on occasion. Lenalee takes everything in stride, and it seems as if the scars don’t faze her at all as she smiles.

Miranda hides her scars behind soft gloves, and wonders if there will be a time when she doesn’t mind them too.

* * *

The scars pulse like a living thing, throbbing like an open wound, knocking the air out of him when he least expects it.

Allen ignores it for the most part. The jagged scar across his chest was his own doing, and he has no right to pin the blame on anyone else. (Even if it hurts, even if it _burns_ with so much more than just a disconnect of nerve endings.)

He doesn’t tell the others. They would only worry, and there’s more important things to worry about than a fading scar. (It’s not fading at all, if he’s honest. It stings with the slightest touch, and the pain is indescribable. He ignores it; there’s nothing wrong.)

He’s always been good about lying to himself.

There are other scars, of course. He’s fought more battles than anyone his age should, and he carries the marks of the burden he has placed on himself. The innocence inside him cleanses the akuma virus, but the smattering of star-shaped scars are a reminder of what had to be done. Like a pox, they spread from his shoulder, the point of impact, until they fade into nothing.

He found out Krory shares the same stars, though his are far more pronounced. They laughed at the moment, but Allen wonders if those stars mean the same to the older man as they do to him.

The scar across his chest pulses again with something hot and burning, almost alive as he hisses into a gloved fist. It _is_ alive, and he’s not nearly enough of a fool to believe that it will heal in time.

It’s not the type of wound that heals.

He steadies himself, ignoring the pain and the whispering that comes with it, and goes about his day.


End file.
